


perhaps not a word

by less_than_improbable



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Drabbles, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Married Couple, Old Age, Retirement, Walt Whitman - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-29
Updated: 2015-06-29
Packaged: 2018-04-06 19:05:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 893
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4233267
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/less_than_improbable/pseuds/less_than_improbable
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock takes John to the pub, just like old times.</p>
            </blockquote>





	perhaps not a word

**Author's Note:**

> Written on my phone, and posted from my phone. I definitely recommend listening to "Turning Page" by Sleeping at Last while reading this (or, if not, after this). The small tidbit there referring to a song was referring to that. Also, the whole drabble was inspired by Walt Whitman's "A Glimpse". This is nothing but fluff.
> 
> Enjoy!

_"A glimpse through an interstice caught,_

_Of a crowd of workmen and drivers in a bar-room around the stove late of a winter night,_

_and I unremark’d seated in a corner,_

_Of a youth who loves me and whom I love, silently approaching and seating himself near,_

_that he may hold me by the hand,_

_A long while amid the noises of coming and going,_

_of drinking and oath and smutty jest,_

_There we two, content, happy in being together, speaking little, perhaps not a word."_

 

 _\- A Glimpse_ , Walt Whitman.

* * *

 

"We're too old for this, aren't we, Sherlock?" The once blonde now grey haired man said as he seated himself opposite the once strikingly handsome now refined by the years lanky man on a table at the corner of a pub. He was still lanky, mind you, but he got a bit more than he used to have back in the day. Retirement had been kind to Sherlock Holmes: his sharp eyes were softer now, but no less brighter than they used to be, his curls tamer, flecks of white and brown peeking out from the once black roots of his mane, and a slight wave of wrinkling on his face whenever he smiled. That was another thing old age taught Sherlock. He learned to smile more freely now. John loved all these little things all the same, just as he had loved the whirlwind of the man years ago.

 

"-- John?" He was startled from his thoughts by the voice of the very man he had been thinking of. "Are you listening to me?"

 

"Yes, yes. Sorry," he reached out to give his husband's hand a squeeze.

 

Sherlock snorted. "You're giving me that look again."

 

"What look?"

 

"That look you gave me when we got married. You look like you are having a hard time making a decision whether you're going to cry or kiss me."

 

John hadn't expected that. Did he really look like that whenever he thought about exactly how and why he loved Sherlock? Not a bad look, then. "I'm thinking about you, actually."

 

"I had gathered as much."

 

"You berk." He fondly pushed the other man's hand away. "You're lucky I love you."

 

"I am." Sherlock said as he gave John a small smile, cupped his hand in both of his, and kissed the band decorated in his ring finger. "Very lucky."

 

John felt an inappropriate need to disobey his body's demands and just run to the middle of the bloody pub. He wanted to shout how lucky he was to have been given this man's heart. As that one song he heard from the radio said, nothing had prepared him for the privilege of being Sherlock's. He felt as if his heart would burst every time he was reminded of the fact that he loved him very much. He was melting internally. He hid his smile by looking away towards the crowd engulfed in noise and changing the subject. "So, why exactly are we here, Sherlock? I can't drink anymore; you don't drink. We're too old for this kind of thing."

 

Sherlock looked towards the direction he was looking. "Your back pains are getting worse, and they're depressing you. I figured.." he chewed on his lip before continuing, a bit unsure. "People watching would help. It's a ritual we've been accustomed to whenever you had what people would call 'bad days' in the clinic." He gazed at John. "I believe the saying 'just like old times' is appropriate?"

 

"Yes," John let out a breathe. He did his best to hide the back pains from Sherlock, but he apparently had been a fool to keep it from him. He was nonetheless touched at this gesture. "Thank you."

 

Sherlock lifted a corner of his mouth in relief. "So, let's start with that man in a blue shirt-"

 

"Stop, Sherlock. Can we, can we just," John said as he looked for the right words to say. Sherlock's lip was furrowed in confusion. "Can we stay silent for tonight? I'd like to just watch how time passes for people here tonight with you."

 

"How time passes?"

 

"Yes. We're old, Sherlock." He chuckled as he saw his husband's face twist at the word. "Ageing makes you aware of the time you have left. Tonight, the people here forget that they're getting old, that today's mistakes will be a part of tomorrow's history. Watching them makes me feel like that, too." He took in a breathe. "I want to be able to take a glimpse of this moment when we get even older than we are, to look at the calm and the silence and.. just us, being us, in the rushing world, where time has stopped for the darkness."

 

Sherlock was silent for a moment. He heard him gulp before he spoke. "My ever romantic husband. It's unbecoming of you to be so when we're already at this age."

 

"Old age calms you down," he said wistfully as he pushed the table to forward. They placed their chairs side by side with their backs against the wall. They sat, hands and fingers woven perfectly, and watched in silence. The dimness of the corner concealed them from its boisterous citizens.

 

But, that night, in the silence and contentment of their hearts and the noise of the world in front of them, they existed together.

**Author's Note:**

> I can contacted on tumblr, if you want. My URL's  
> http://less-than-improbable.tumblr.com


End file.
